Dear Awesome Journal
by Happymood
Summary: Today I feel like I have to confess something no one knows, even you, who practically knows my story by heart. Implied PruHun. One-shot.


_Dear Awesome Journal, _

_I don't need to tell you that since the day I was born, I always have been an awesome guy. Everybody knows that, even those who claim they are much better than me. I'm sure that even those who claimed war against me, those who thought they could have the upper hand on me, had been afraid of me. But today I feel like I have to confess something no one knows, even you, who practically knows my story by heart. _

"I'm walking in the wooods~ I'm walking in the woooooods!", the albino boy sang loudly as he waved around a stick, hitting trees and kicking stones as he passed by. As his song was saying, the little boy was walking in the woods, followed by a much more silent and younger, blond boy, who just kept staring at the albino's feet as if he was afraid that, if he looked away, he was going to lose him.

"The wooooooods!", the albino sang louder this time, his voice breaking just a little. As if to put his point across, the young boy kicked another stone and laughed when the stone hit a man walking before them. The man suddenly turned around, his blue eyes so angry, the albino boy immediately stopped laughing.

"Gilbert, stop right now!" the man ordered, and Gilbert pouted.

"But it's so booooooring~" Gilbert exclaimed, crossing his arms against his chest and suddenly coming to a stop. The younger boy following him stopped too and looked up at him in confusion. Gilbert shot him a look then looked up at the man before them. The man was looking around him, searching something with his eyes that Gilbert couldn't see. Gilbert opened his mouth to say something, but the man just shushed him.

"Wait here and take care of Ludwig, Gilbert." The man ordered, taking his bow and staring at the point on their right. "I'll be right back." He added, softer this time.

"But—!" Gilbert suddenly exclaimed, raising his hands, annoyed. The older man shot him another look and without another word disappeared into the forest. Gilbert watched him go, his hands tightening into fits, then he looked behind him over to where his brother was, not young enough to not comprehend what they had said, not old enough to take care of his own.

"I hate you!" Gilbert suddenly shouted and sat heavily down on a stone near the river. Ludwig cocked his head to the side, his blue eyes full with confusion, and sat down beside Gilbert. The albino sighed loudly and put his face between his hands. "Why do I always have to take care of you? Why can't I follow Grandpa like a real nation?"

Ludwig just took the stick Gilbert had dropped down on his side and started hitting the calm waters of the river with it. Gilbert wanted to laugh at the silliness of it all: Ludwig seemed so serious, but he was still a baby and acted like one. He wondered if Ludwig would become a nation someday, like their Grandpa. Gilbert then wondered if he would become a nation too. He looked down into the river and saw his own reflection. He liked the way his red eyes looked so terrifying, and his white hair made him look like a ghost. He liked it.

Gilbert grinned down at the waters, made funny faces, and then tried to look serious. He laughed. With a face like this, he told himself, he would sure be an awesome nation. Too lost in thought to notice his surroundings, he didn't see the sky slowly turning grey, and only when the first drops of rain hit him, did he realize that a thunderstorm was coming. He looked up at the sky, then at Ludwig on his left.

"Where's Grandpa?" Gilbert asked, Ludwig just stared at him. Gilbert sighed, he wondered if Ludwig was deaf or something, then he stood up. "I'm going in search of him, alright?"

Ludwig stood up.

"No, you are going to stay right here!" Gilbert ordered, Ludwig nodded, and Gilbert smirked. He liked giving orders.

He started running to where his own Grandpa had run too, he called his name out loud as the rain suddenly became thicker. Too soon for Gilbert's tastes, night came, and he suddenly couldn't see around the woods that well anymore. He called his Grandpa's name once more, but it was pointless as the rain covered all sounds. He decided to go back to Ludwig, and tried to find his way to the river. He suddenly heard the waters flowing in the darkness and ran in that direction. A moment later he was back to where his searching started, but of Ludwig there was no trace. Gilbert's heart stopped as he noticed the stick he had been carrying all day long abandoned there at the rivers' bank.

Thunder exploded over him, and panic swallowed Gilbert's soul.

"Ludwig!", he started shouting then. "Ludwig! Answer, dammit!"

He started running around, shouting Ludwig's name over and over again. Dread took him over. He imagined Ludwig falling in the river and drowning. He imagined Ludwig's corpse laying somewhere in the dark. He imagined him being attacked by a wolf. He imagined the sorrow and the pain and the disappointment in his Grandpa's eyes. He imagined himself alone.

"Ludwig! Ludwig! I'm sorry I said I hate you!" Gilbert suddenly shouted, "I don't! _I don't!_ Please, come back!"

He was soaking wet and his eyes stung. Gilbert's was desperate. He didn't know what to do. He tried to look around again, he tried to search the river with his eyes, he tried to call Ludwig's name again.

Suddenly something moved behind him and Gilbert's heart skipped a beat as he suddenly turned around, expecting to be attacked at any moment. From behind a bush, his Grandpa and Ludwig appeared, and Gilbert suddenly felt his soul much lighter. His Grandpa seemed furious as he held Ludwig's hand tight in his.

"Gilbert, I'm—!"

But Gilbert didn't hear him, he just run to where Ludwig was, fell on his knees and hugged the other boy close. He didn't notice his Grandpa's eyes slowly softening.

_I've been afraid of the rain._

Gilbert ran in the woods. His eyes were fixed on his prey. His bow was ready to hit. His feet didn't lose balance even once. Gilbert wondered if he was following a man, a woman or if it was human at all. He felt something strange emanating from that creature that dared enter his territories, and he didn't like it one bit. The creature was fast, but Gilbert managed to stay behind it just fine. He suddenly noticed it turn right, and Gilbert grinned. There was a clearing there, if the creature went there, it would be easy to hit.

The creature suddenly stopped, as the sun suddenly hit them both, and Gilbert finally realized he had been following a human all along. He raised his bow and shouted:

"Who are you? Don't you know this is my territory?"

The human suddenly turned around, pointing his own arrow at him. Gilbert was shocked to see a boy young as he was staring at him. His green eyes were so beautiful, that Gilbert thought he could drown into them. He suddenly lowered his bow and remained staring open-mouthed at the young boy before him.

"Who are you?"

The boy looked suspicious and, unlike Gilbert, didn't lower his bow. It looked like their roles had been reversed.

"You aren't human." Gilbert said then, staring straight into emerald eyes. "You're a nation." The boy seemed taken aback by this and Gilbert noticed the other's hands shake a little.

"I'm Hungary." The boy said then.

"Hungary?" Gilbert repeated stupidly.

"That's what I said. Now state your name or I'll kill you!" Hungary exclaimed, pointing the bow again straight where Gilbert's heart was.

"I'm the awesome Prussia." Gilbert said, suddenly remembering his new name.

"Prussia?" Hungary said, lowering the bow. He looked at Gilbert, confused. The sun hit Hungary in such an angle that his eyes almost glowed, and Gilbert suddenly realized that those eyes were going to hunt him forever.

_I've been afraid of the sun._

The sun shone brightly over him. Prussia hated it with a passion, he hated the way everything seemed so peaceful, like nothing had happened. He hated the fact tomorrow the sun was going to rise up in the sky again, he hated the fact that tomorrow the same people will do the same things that they had always done since forever, he hated the fact he was a nation.

An immortal.

The immortal one should had been him.

The last time Prussia had talked to him had been two days before. They were in his studio, studying maps Prussia knew practically by heart. Prussia was wearing his best clothes, his best smile, even if his heart was hurting in his chest.

"I'm sure you can manage." Frederick had told him, smiling at him. Prussia had shot him a look, and tried to smile once more.

"Don't talk as if you are going to die, old man." Prussia scolded, "In a week or so you are going to be back on your horse again."

Frederick laughed a little, before turning into a coughing fit. Prussia stared at him, long and scrutinizing, then swore he would cut the doctor of the royal family into pieces if Frederick keep looking that pale. When Frederick finally calmed down, he slowly stood up and made his way to one of the big windows.

"You managed just fine before I was born." Frederick said, "You managed to become great when I lived." Prussia looked at him, lowered his eyes on the maps before him. "You'll remain awesome when I'm gone."

"I was awesome because of you." Prussia said. His eyes stung. He suddenly felt dizzy and sat down where Frederick had been sitting up to a moment before.

"You are." Frederick looked out of the window, coughed once more, and then smiled broadly at Prussia. Prussia smiled too, but it hurt so much to move those muscles like that.

"It's been an honor serving you, Prussia, Gilbert." Frederick said, "It had been a really honor." He looked out of the window once more. Prussia looked away, then stood up and approached Frederick. He put a hand on the old king's shoulders and grinned.

"And I'm so glad you were my King."

Then morning came and the first one to hear the news had been Prussia. He expected the sky to turn cloudy and the rain to fall. He expected everyone to stop what they were doing, kneel down and cry. He expected the sun to never rise again.

"He passed away."

Three words and Prussia would have liked to be the subject of the phrase.

_I've been afraid to move on. _

Hungary was staring at him. Her hands clutching her long, beautiful dress in a way Prussia had never thought he would see her do. Prussia stared back at her, at her long, wavy hair, wanting nothing else than ran a hand through them, feel them so soft under his fingers. She kept looking at him, waiting for some kind of reaction, but Prussia wanted to give her none of that.

"I'm happy for you." Prussia said instead. His voice was cold, betraying his real emotions. "I'm fucking happy for you and that noble boy you call fiancé."

"Austria." Hungary pointed out. Prussia just waved his hand at her nonchalantly.

"Whatever."

"I want you there." Hungary said, her face turning suddenly angry.

"Whatever." Prussia said once more, and turned his back to her. There was a long moment of silence, in which Prussia didn't know whether Hungary had left or if she was still waiting for him to say something incredibly cliché.

"I need you there." Hungary said suddenly, her voice breaking a little. Prussia abruptly turned to her, furious, and made a bee line to where Hungary was standing still. Her face had no emotion on it, but her eyes looked pleading enough to make him feel even angrier.

"If you did, you would have married me instead!" Prussia suddenly shouted in her face. Hungary stared straight in his eyes. "You would have told me you loved _me_! You know very well how I feel about that bastard, Hungary, so don't make me pretend I like this one a bit!"

"I'm not asking you to pretend!" Hungary exclaimed, "I'm asking you…" but she stopped.

"You are asking me what then?" Prussia ran a hand through his white hair. Hungary looked defiantly at him.

"If you are being like this, I'll leave." Hungary said. Prussia grinned venomously.

"Fine. Have a happy, long marriage." Prussia stated and turned around to leave. Hungary suddenly made a step forwards and grabbed his hands in hers. Prussia looked at her, his eyes suddenly showing all his confusion and sadness.

"Why not me?"

"We are nations." Hungary said, looking up at Prussia.

"That's not a valuable answer." Prussia said instead. Hungary didn't comment, she just stared into Prussia's eyes and remained silent. Prussia stared at her emerald eyes for a long moment, and then he suddenly looked down at her soft lips. He didn't wait for her permission and just leaned down and kissed her. For a long moment she didn't move and Prussia was sure she was going to hit him sooner or later, but then, suddenly, Hungary's arms encircled his body and he sighed against her lips.

Why she kept messing up with his emotions like this? Why she kept letting him hope? Why doesn't she say anything? Why doesn't he tell her he hates her and end it like this?

That night as he moved into her, he knew that that was going the first and last time they'll ever be this close. Hungary's skin was so soft; he wanted this moment to last forever. Prussia could have told her to stay, but he knew she was just using him, and he felt some kind of resentment for her at that.

The day after, he will sit on the last rows of the church. He will watch her walk the aisle and take that barbarian's hand, dressed in the most beautiful dress Prussia would have ever seen her wearing. He will not talk when the time for oppositions would come, and he would not go tell them his best wishes when the ceremony would come to an end.

He will leave without a word, and they will never talk again.

_I've been afraid to love._

They had to talk since… Prussia didn't remember when. But Prussia remembered their last chat as if it was yesterday. It involved wine, girls, and what they were going to do once they were free from everything. Prussia realized it was going to take a long time for them to act on their plans. If they were going back to were they had been at all.

Prussia could see his friend's blue eyes perfectly in the darkness. The earth around them stank of dirt and blood, and he was suddenly happy that he could manage just fine while, he knew, his enemy couldn't take the stench that well. France had always hated smelly things, and that's why he was so keen on using that just as smelly water he called perfume. Prussia was used to the smell of blood and death since he was a little nation.

But then he realized that France must be used to it too now, as he had changed since the day they last talked. After all, it was France that had dirtied his town with blood. He should know something about it.

Prussia was aiming at him, straight in the heart, and France was returning the favor. They were at war, after all, and there was no time for reminiscence, no time for happy memories or what it lasted of them. Prussia hoped France's stupid clothes he called military uniform was filthy and that his hair he so much adored where cut to the root. He hated this part. If he knew that every friendship of his would have ended like this from the start, he would have never taken someone's hand in the first place.

It's so great to be alone.

No rejection. No pain. No betrayals. No wars. Nothing.

The next time this happened again, Prussia would ask himself a question. He would ask the other: Are you going to leave me alone again if I take your hand now?

He was sure neither he nor the other would have an answer to that question.

The earth suddenly started moving, the sky turned red and both of them lowered the weapons to stare at the airplanes above. For the slightest of moments they shared one instance together, before remembering this was war after all and they had to focus.

_I've been afraid of friendships. _

Ludwig was staring at him. Prussia would have liked to laugh at how serious his brother looked in that moment, tease him for the way he slicked his hair back, if it wasn't for the situation they both were in. Serious, stern, mighty Ludwig. This Ludwig, Prussia didn't recognize anymore, was his brother.

"Oh, mighty Germany." Prussia said, licking his lips. Ludwig had the decency to blush, but he didn't say anything. "Is this how you treat your own brother?" Prussia's tone of voice became suddenly cold. Germany looked away.

Prussia suddenly remembered a young Ludwig following his every step. He remembered how afraid he had been when he thought Ludwig had died, and he remembered his desperation when Ludwig did die, so many years (or there were centuries?) ago, when Prussia found him alone and stained with blood in the middle of a battlefield.

Prussia knew that Ludwig had forgotten everything from that moment backwards, but he hoped he hadn't forgotten how much Prussia loved him. He had hoped for the impossible, it seemed, and Prussia just wanted to stand up and kick him to a pulp.

Great. Just fucking great.

"Are we on an agreement?" someone said. Prussia scoffed.

"Fuck no."

Germany looked at him, and Prussia stared into those blue eyes, recognized the guilt in them, a glimpse of the old Ludwig Prussia so much adored. Prussia stared at him, then at the rest of the people around the table. He closed his eyes, sighed.

"Prussia?" Germany said. Prussia shrugged.

"Whatever."

"We are going to be one, Prussia. You aren't going anywhere." Germany tried to say, his voice much more an order than anything. Prussia suddenly remembered their old Grandpa and a fit of nostalgia hit him.

Germany didn't remember him. He should hate him for that.

"Whatever." Prussia said once more. Germany sighed and massaged his temples.

"Sign, please." Some ordered. Prussia watched with horror as Germany, his own brother, signed for his dissolution.

"Fuck." That was all he could say in that moment. Germany glanced at him, but didn't comment.

"And how am I going to introduce myself now?" Prussia tried to joke, but there was no answer to his question. Germany and Prussia shared a look, and Prussia felt his stomach churning, but as much he wanted that feeling to never go away, it disappeared as soon as his brother touched his shoulder.

_I've been afraid to hate._

Gilbert stared at his reflection in the mirror. He stared at his red eyes, at the black bags under them, and touched his cheek with a finger. He didn't remember to be this pale before. He stuck his tongue out, made a funny face and then started laughing.

"Don't I look awesome today?" Gilbert exclaimed, looking at his brother through the mirror. Germany was putting his clothes on and just glanced at Gilbert, raising an eyebrow at the silliness of his own brother. Gilbert kept grinning at the mirror, but then suddenly turned confused again.

"How old am I again?" Gilbert suddenly asked, furrowing his eyebrows. For the first time since morning Germany decided to speak:

"In human years or in…" Germany stuttered, blushed, coughed, "…nation's years?" he added, almost whispering. Gilbert turned to look at him.

"I'm a nation?" Gilbert seemed honestly confused for a moment, looked at the mirror again, and suddenly looked happy again. "Of course I am! The most awesome nation of the whole Universe!" he bragged, laughed and when his laugher slowly subsided, looked confused again.

"You must be…" Germany said then, looking down at his hands. "… thirty or something… maybe younger…"

"You don't remember?" Gilbert seemed shocked, then turned to look at Germany and crossed his arms over his chest. "Man, you do have the memory of a goldfish! I'm sure it's that Italian fault. He sure messed with your head!", he exclaimed and then laughed loudly again.

"Italy has nothing to do with it." Germany said, sternly. "Are you ready?", he asked then. Gilbert waved a hand at him.

"In a moment." He stared at the mirror and noticed Germany sighing behind him.

"Why don't you read your… journals in the meantime?" Germany asked then, his voice soft, so in contrast with his serious face. Gilbert seemed to light up at that and stood up to get one old, black book standing on the desk.

Germany watched as his brother opened it to a casual page and started reading. After a long moment of silence Gilbert started whistling and turned to look at Germany with a big grin on his face.

"Did I really do all this stuff?" Gilbert asked then, "I'm really awesome, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are." Germany said, taking some things from the desk and glancing at Gilbert as he did so. Gilbert took a pen and exclaimed:

"I should write how awesome I was today too! Or else you'll keep forgetting!"

Germany looked at Gilbert, then down at the things he was carrying. Gilbert seemed lost in thought and the pen he was holding almost shook between his fingers. Germany sighed once more, and then made to open the door.

"I'm waiting for you downstairs. We have a lot of things to do." Germany said and stepped outside, but suddenly Gilbert turned to look at him and exclaimed:

"Germany?"

"Yes?" Germany stopped and raised one eyebrow.

"What's my name again?"

Germany looked down, turned away from Gilbert's confused face and sighed once more.

"Your name is Gilbert." Germany made to go, then changed his mind and looked at his brother: "Or East Germany if you want."

"Oh, awesome!" Gilbert grinned and started writing. "See you in a few, West!"

_I've been afraid of forgetting. _

Gilbert didn't like this one bit. It was too cold for his tastes, as if Russia had brought all that Siberian cold with him when he took over his territories. Gilbert hated that guy with a passion. He hated the fact Russia smiled even at the worst of moments, he hated how he wore that scarf around his neck all the time, he hated how he touched his cheek without permission and told him that now Gilbert was his, and, most of all, he hated the fact he couldn't see his brother anymore.

Gilbert had lost track of time. He didn't remember since when that wall had been separating him from his brother. He needed to continuously check his journals out if he wanted to keep in mind the time of the year, because he was always so cold, he thought he was living an endless December.

But that wasn't the case, Gilbert told himself once more, because there was no snow around him, the trees kept being green in the summer and kept losing their leaves in autumn. Was he the only one who suffered from cold? Was he becoming like Russia now? Did he need to wear a scarf around his neck all year long now too?

Gilbert had to admit that Vodka was nice in those moments. It warmed him from the inside out. It was a pity it was over too soon and he had to remember again.

It's not as if the Wall wasn't a great reminder. Gilbert, East Germany he tried to tell himself, holding onto the only sure thing he had in that moment- touched the wall and made a disgusted face. Russia allowed him to get close to it, but not to go over it and see his brother. Gilbert was sure that Ludwig was having a hell of a time without him. He had a job, friends, money, a warm house, everything. He wasn't like him that had only the cold and the vodka to keep him company. And he wasn't going to count Russia in that equation. Never.

He almost missed Austria then. Almost.

Gilbert wondered how the bastard was doing, but then emerald eyes filled his mind, and he decided to let go of that memory once more. Gilbert felt shivers run down his spine and he clutched the coat tighter around himself.

"Something is not right." Gilbert told himself. He looked up at the ugly wall and in a rush of anger kicked it. "Stupid wall!"

The wall didn't budge but Gilbert was sure that the kick must have done something, because he felt even colder and he swore he felt the wall shiver against his hand. He raised an eyebrow and looked up at the sky.

A thunderstorm was coming.

"What the hell?" he whispered then. He touched the wall again and even pressed his ear to it. He swore he could feel people talking. Gilbert laughed and shook his head. "Oh, great! I'm going mad now."

He kept touching the wall and even made some steps to his right to see if he felt the same thing somewhere else too.

"Oh." Gilbert suddenly felt dizzy, but he managed to remain on his feet just fine. "They are going to tear it down."

Gilbert didn't know from where he had heard that statement, neither did he know why he said it. As the first droplets of rain fell down on him, though, everything seemed clear in his head. Gilbert could swear that he heard Ludwig's voice too and in a moment he knew that what he said was true.

"They are going to tear it down!" he exclaimed, almost grinning. The rain suddenly became heavier and Gilbert felt cold again. "They are going to tear it down." Gilbert repeated then, this time afraid.

"Who am I going to be now?" he asked then, in panic. He touched the wall once more and watched as the rain repeatedly hit his hand. "Who am I really?"

His hand was as white as the wall was. Gilbert was shocked to finally see himself like this. He looked up at the sky, felt the rain on his skin, and his heart beat frantically inside his chest.

"I'm Prussia." He suddenly said. Gilbert was shocked to hear his own voice speaking, and that name made him shiver in pleasure. He had to hear it from a long, long time, but it was only now that he said it, that he realized how much he missed it.

"I'm Prussia." He repeated louder and started laughing. He kicked the wall once more and put his hands on his waist. "Damn Wall! Did you hear fuckers? Russia, you bastard! Do you hear me? I'm _Prussia_!"

Germany was Germany. There wasn't going to be West or East. There was going to be just Germany.

And he was he. He was Prussia. He was always going to be Prussia. That was his name.

Prussia suddenly felt elated as he had never been. If he closed his eyes he could see his King smiling at him. If he concentrated hard enough he could feel Hungary's hand in his. If he heard close enough he could hear his Grandpa speaking.

The rain kept falling on him but Gilbert suddenly didn't feel that cold anymore. He raised his hands up in the sky, laughed and started singing:

"I'm walking in the raaaaaaaaaaain~" he laughed once more, "I'm walking in the raaaaaaaaaaaaaain, fuckers!"

People stopped and stared at him as if he was crazy, but Prussia couldn't care less anymore.

_And for the slightest of moments, I've been afraid of Death. _

That morning Germany thought that that day wasn't going to be any different from any other day, but as soon as he saw himself in the mirror, he knew that something had changed. It took him a while to realize that something in his heart too felt weird.

Germany realized just what was going on, only when he saw the Wall being tore down. He immediately ran to help, because it was his duty, his opportunity to do so. Unheard from all those excited people surrounding him, Germany started calling Gilbert's name. He was sure that his brother was there, somewhere, waiting for the right opportunity to pull a trick on him, grinning like the madman he was.

Germany looked everywhere, but there was no trace of his brother. He swore he heard him laughing more than once, though. It was a characteristic laugh, there was no way he could mistake him for someone else.

"Gilbert! East!" he tried again, and this time he thought he saw his brother standing over the wall, hands on his hips and grinning from ear to ear. Germany suddenly came to a stop and stared at that man that looked so unlike his brother.

This man seemed younger, and, even if he had always been pale, he didn't look that sick anymore. Gilbert was staring down at him, his teeth wide and looking almost lethal. Germany suddenly remembered a little albino boy, sitting beside him near a river, making funny faces at his own reflection. He didn't know he had such a memory, but it filled his heart with warmth.

"West!" Gilbert suddenly exclaimed, making Germany realize he hadn't been dreaming at all. His brother was there, younger, stronger, standing on the wall, raising his thumbs up at him.

It lasted a second, and then he was gone, as it was the memory of that young boy making faces at the river in his mind.


End file.
